Remember
by Raven Silvers
Summary: [Movie and book] The paper with black lines running across its edges made Raoul’s blood run cold. He had last seen that paper used almost fifty years ago, when the drama in the Opera Populaire had unfolded...


Set-post movie, so there are definite spoilers, but most of the content is drawn from the book.

* * *

Raoul watched as his grandchildren played in the garden. Nearby, his sons and daughters-in-law laughed as one of the children tried to catch a butterfly.

He couldn't help but smile. There was sadness in his smile too, because Christine wasn't here to see it. He had no doubt that she would have loved to see their family together.

"Grandfather," a voice from the floor came. Looking down from his wheelchair, Raoul saw Christine Meg de Chagny, aged nine, and one of the youngest of the third generation of de Chagnys. The little girl was dressed in a blue frock, and Raoul noticed with some sadness that she had inherited her grandmother's hair.

"Yes?" he said, trying to give her a happy smile.

"I have something for you," she said, reaching into one of her pockets and pulling out an envelope. "The Angel gave it to me." She handed it over. Raoul smiled at his granddaughter.

"Thank you, Christine," said he, for not only did the younger de Chagny inherit her grandmother's luscious brown locks, she also had her name, and he sent her off to play with her cousins again. Raoul looked to the note, wondering who this "Angel" was. As with all young girls, Christine had her share of imaginary friends.

The paper with black lines running across its edges made Raoul's blood run cold. He had last seen that paper used almost fifty years ago, when the drama in the Opera Populaire had unfolded...

The same handwriting in red, almost like a child's...all in red and queer-shaped, like a child who had never got beyond the down-strokes. His name was written on it.

With dread in the pit of his belly, Raoul ripped open the letter. There was no death's head seal on the other side, thank goodness, but it didn't mean that the Phantom of the Opera hadn't come back to haunt another generation of de Chagnys.

* * *

M. le Victome Raoul de Chagny;

I trust your granddaughter will hand this to you. Before you call the police again — I do not think M. Mifroid will still be in the service — I assure you that I have no intention of tutoring this Christine.

I know you bought my musical box. I also know you left it at Christine's grave. I believe you saw my own 'gift' to her; the rose with the ribbon.

Raoul, I write to you because I want to thank you. After the Opera, I have been watching you and Christine. I had not intended to, but I realised that Christine's Angel might come in handy.

Throughout the decades, you were a loving husband and father. I was afraid that once you were married and I was forgotten, you would not care for Christine. I am relieved to say that I was wrong.

I have not seen such devotion to a wife even after her death from a man. I know you jumped at the chance to go to the public auction of the Opera's items because you missed Christine.

I miss her too.

You may have heard strange noises from your cellars, or you may have not. I inform you I used to stay there. I now no longer am near the de Chagny estate. I live in Paris underneath Mme. la Baronne de Castelot-Barbezac's home. You and I know the Baronne as little Meg Giry from the_ corps de ballet_.

But I digress. I write to you, Raoul de Chagny, husband to the woman I never stopped loving, because I want to thank you for the happy years you gave Christine while she was still alive. When she was happy, I was happy.

I know you are lonely without her, and that despite the company of your family and friends, there is a space in you that still longs for her presence.

I understand that feeling all too well. But bear in mind something, M. le Victome...

She will never die as long as she lives in our hearts.

Yours faithfully,  
P.T.O

* * *

Raoul sighed and folded the paper back to its original shape and slotted it into the envelope quietly. He had not been wrong. The Phantom of the Opera still lived. In this case, under the Baronne's house.

The Phantom was right, though, Raoul mused as he put the letter into the pocket of his coat. Christine would never die as long as she was remembered. And even if Raoul did, he knew that there would be another man out there who would make sure his Angel lived.


End file.
